


Crybaby

by JJGrace42



Series: Scrapbook of a Dimension-Traveling Sideshow [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: ANBU - Freeform, Canon Compliant, Gen, Side Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 17:42:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11257737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJGrace42/pseuds/JJGrace42
Summary: In which some of Konoha's strongest jonin lose the battle against a crying child.





	Crybaby

**Author's Note:**

> Author Note: Just a short piece that allows for a peek at what the poor ANBU were going through during Mirai’s little tantrum upon discovering she was a baby.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: ANBU is not mine. Naruto is not mine. Demons aren’t mine either. Just generally speaking, let’s assume everything isn’t mine. Mirai, though, is mine.

“Demons. That’s what they are. Demons from the bowels of hell, sent here to torment us by taking away our precious peace and quiet.” Neko slumped into one of the kitchen chairs with a whimper and buried her face in her arms. Her mask clicked against the tabletop and pressed harshly against her cheek. To her left, someone chuckled and elbowed her.

“They’re not that bad. They’re actually kinda cute once they get to sleep.”

“Sleep?” she hissed, snapping her head up and glaring at him. “Don’t talk to me about _sleep._ They don’t sleep,” she spat. “Evil doesn’t sleep, don’t you get it?”

“I think you’re taking this a little far.” Mokin unclipped his mask from where it sat over his face and set it down. “They’re just babies. It’s not like they’re doing it on purpose.”

“Easy for you to say. You didn’t spend all night trying to get her to stop screaming odes to the devil!” With a dramatic sob, she unclipped her own mask. “This just isn’t fair,” she whined.

“Maybe she’s sick,” Uma mused, joining them at the table with a plate of fruit. “Naruto cries, but not nearly as much as she does.”

Mokin shrugged, skewering a grape with a senbon and lifting it to his mouth. “Ari checked both of them over yesterday. Full medical workup and everything. Not a thing wrong with them—either of them. Perfect health.”

The wails started again, echoing off the walls and rattling in their skulls.

Neko sniffled, slouching forward. “Make it stop!”

Uma glanced towards Mokin. The second man held up his hands. “Hey, don’t look at me. There’s no way in hell I’m going back into that war zone.”

“I’m certainly not calming her down. Last time I held her, she bit me. Bit me!”

Neko shifted so that her cheek was pressed into the tabletop. She glared at Uma. “She doesn’t even have teeth, you wuss.”

“She has the jaws of a wolf, though,” he muttered, shaking his hand out. “Is that a normal baby thing?”

Mokin pressed his hands over his ears. “For the love of everything good, someone shut her up!”

The crying stopped.

Mokin blinked. “Is that what I think it is?” he whispered, lowering his hands.

Neko held up a finger to silence him. “Shush!” she urged, staring wide-eyed out at the hallway. They all froze, the lack of sound crawling across their skin. Then a laugh bubbled up in her throat. Neko bent over, clutching an arm around her waist and giggling frantically. “Do you hear that?” she gasped out. “It’s _quiet._ ” With a squeal of delight, she leaned back in her chair and grinned. “We’re free!”

“Well, she’s broken,” Uma muttered. His gaze flicked to Mokin. “Twenty ryo that she’s out in six months.”

The other ANBU scoffed. “She’s tougher than that. It’ll at least be a couple years before she drops out.” Despite his words, he eyed the female nervously. She had stopped her laughing and had collapsed across the table, asleep.

Uma arched an eyebrow. “Fifty ryo,” he teased, a smirk tilting his lips. “C’mon. If you’re that confident in it, then you’ve got nothing to lose, right.”

“Hundred ryo and then you’re on.”

“Deal.”

Mokin skewered another couple grapes and popped them into his mouth. He tilted his head to the side, considering their unconscious comrade. “She’s really out cold.”

Uma grunted in response, tossing an apple from hand to hand. He took a bite out of it, splattering juice everywhere. Some of it splashed across Mokin’s face like spittle, but the ANBU didn’t flinch. He simply rubbed it away with the back of his hand.

“We should probably wake her up. The table is hardly comfortable.”

Another grunt. Another crunch as he bit into the apple. Uma’s attention flicked momentarily to Neko’s unconscious form before he returned it to his fruit.

“I volunteer you.”

“Like hell I’m waking her up,” Uma snarled. The words twisted the scars stretched across his face and a chunk of apple plopped from between his lips to the table below. “You risk your own ass, not mine.”

Mokin rolled his eyes and waved a senbon at the other nin, prepared to argue. But before he could, another sharp cry split the air. Mokin’s eyes widened in a panic and he glanced towards Uma. The other shinobi dropped his apple. “Not it!” With that, he disappeared. Neko muttered something in her sleep. Mokin looked helplessly at the empty chair across from him before letting out a string of words the kunoichi would skin him for if she was awake. Mirai was still crying.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, shoving the chair backwards as he got to his feet. He clapped his mask back over his face. “I’m coming. Don’t get your coils in a knot. Sheesh.” If possible, her screaming wails only got louder.

And in that moment, Mokin thought Neko might be right.

Mirai really was a little demon.


End file.
